Claim Souls
by Alliecallienip
Summary: Kathleen...


A/N: Tess, Monica, Andrew, and Kathleen don't belong to me. But - Savana and Thorn do! Feel free  
to use them. ^_^ Of course, I demand to read if you do...*grins* Rated PG-13 for a few choice  
Words and for some violence...and death. One of my earlier fics, but not one I'm particularly   
proud of.  
  
The young girl ran past the two angels, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched a  
crumpled sheet of notebook paper to her chest. Her sobs could be heard clearly from almost  
anywhere in the small middle school. Curious onlookers gave inquiring glances to her fleeing  
form that had brushed past them just moments before.  
  
"Oh, the poor, wee child!" A voice thick with an Irish brogue spoke softly to her supervisor,  
making sure that no one but she could hear her words. The speaker was short, with long red  
hair and soft brown eyes filled with pity for the retreating figure. She bit her lower lip in  
compassion. "Tess, what can we do to help her? Is she m'assignment? How am I going to get  
close to her?" Her voice overflowed with questions, each tumbling over each other like amateur  
gymnasts until her voice was a collage of words and excitement. The other, an older woman  
with dark skin and a large frame raised her hand to stop the barrage of inquiries.  
  
"Now, hold on, Miss Wings!" she chuckled. "I know you're eager to get on this case, but this is  
ridiculous!" 'Miss Wings' smiled sheepishly. Tess glanced heavenward, as if to say, Oh, Lord,  
Give me strength! "Now," she continued, "About this case. This isn't for you; it's Kathleen's.   
You're here just for back up. Kath has been working with this little girl for a few weeks now,  
and will need some help.  
  
"Her name is Savana - Savana Ireland Rose. She's had a hard life - this little incident is only one  
hurtful event in her short, painful life." Tess smiled sadly. "Monica," she added, " You need to be  
extra careful with her. She doesn't trust anyone anymore. You can't do *anything* that will  
injure her feelings. She has enough of that going on, already." With that note, Tess turned  
towards a classroom at the end of the hall. Curiosity piqued, Monica followed.  
  
Tess was almost at the door when the portal burst open. A worried-looking teacher rushed out  
and looked, frustrated, towards a small closet where the sobs could still be clearly heard.  
Monica glanced at the teacher once, then did a double-take, her eyes wide. "Oh!" she cried.  
"It's Kathleen!"  
  
It was Kathleen. Her dark features were highlighted with concern, and she bit her lower lip  
nervously. Her long, dark hair was piled up hurriedly in a messy bun, and she wore a small  
mustard seed around her neck. She fingered the necklace, and murmured over and over,  
"Nothing is impossible if you have faith as small as a mustard seed." Paying no attention to Tess  
and Monica, Kathleen brushed past them and strode down the hall, breaking her verbal pattern  
by calling, "Savana? Savana, come here!" She sighed once she got to the closet door, and  
knocked softly. "Savana?" she whispered. "Come on out. It's okay."  
  
The door creaked open a crack, and a girl's red head poked out cautiously. Tears were  
running down her cheeks, and she was obviously trying to swallow her sobs. "Wha - What do  
you want, Miss Kathleen?" Kathleen smiled gently.  
  
"I want to help you."  
  
Savana sniffled. "I don't need any help. I can handle everything by myself." The teacher laughed  
softly. She held out a hand to the child. The girl looked at it carefully, then hesitantly reached out  
and allowed Kathleen to help her out of the closet. Savana's bright red hair was mussed, and  
her pale cheeks were streaked with tears. Long lashes framed her sea green eyes, which were  
still filled with tears. She looked up at Kathleen sorrowfully, and then seemed to get control of  
her emotions. She said more firmly, "Really, Miss Kathleen. I'll be okay."  
  
The angel looked doubtful. "Are you sure?" Savana hesitated, then nodded slowly. Kathleen  
pointed the crumpled sheet of notebook paper still held tightly in the child's clenched fist.  
"What's that?"  
  
Savana looked down in surprise, bewildered to find herself still holding it. She tried to hide it  
behind her back. "It - it's nothing. Really," she insisted when Kathleen didn't look convinced.  
The angel reached out a hand.  
  
"Are you sure? I can help you." She grasped Savana's hand with her own. "Please - " she  
added. "Just tell me what's wrong." Savana hesitated, then slowly brought the notebook paper  
from behind her back.  
  
"Charlotte and Abby gave this to me at lunch," she said tearfully. Kathleen reached out and  
took the paper. She scanned it, and frowned.  
  
Monica looked at Tess curiously. "What does it say?" she asked. Tess told her to go see.  
Invisible to mortal eye, Monica moved quickly and silently to stand behind Kathleen. She  
leaned down and read:  
  
Savana, We know that we have been ignoring you recently. There is a reason for that. The fact  
is, Savana, you aren't any fun to be with. We put up with you for a long time, and after many  
discussions, we decided that we don't want to be your friends anymore. Please don't write to  
us, talk to us, or even be friendly to us anymore. We can't stand you.  
  
Abby and Charlotte  
  
Monica gasped, and sent a sympathetic glance to Savana. The look was wasted, however, as  
the child could not see the angel. Tess looked meaningfully at Monica, and then motioned for  
her to approach. As Monica did so, Tess spoke to her in a low voice.  
  
"*Now* do you understand?" The elder angel spoke to her protege in urgent tones. "This note  
has totally destroyed this child's life." Monica looked shocked.  
  
"But - but -" she protested. "It's just one note; they're just two friends!" Tess harrumphed.  
  
"*Just* two friends?" Tess asked. "Now, let me pose a hypothetical situation for you." Monica  
nodded. "Suppose the heading to that note read 'Monica' and wherever 'Abby' was mentioned  
it said 'Andrew' and wherever 'Charlotte' was mentioned it read 'Kathleen'. How would YOU  
feel?" Monica frowned.  
  
"I - I would feel awful!" she cried. "I think I see. Charlotte and Abby weren't just her friends,  
they were her BEST friends!" Tess smiled, pleased. She leaned close to Monica and spoke, her  
eyes wide.  
  
"Bingo."  
  
(\_/) (/ \)  
  
Savana Ireland Rose walked dejectedly home from school. Miss Kathleen was nice, she  
thought, but she didn't understand. She was sure that wherever the teacher had come from -  
and Miss Kathleen didn't talk at *all* about her past - it was nice, and loving, and she had had  
a mom who loved her and a dad that stayed at home. Tears welled up again, but Savana willed  
them not to fall. She looked down, and whispered a prayer. "Please - let me be strong." Even  
after the plea, Savana wasn't sure if God had heard it.  
  
Savana was short, only about 5'0, and petite. She was very thin, and had wonderful, thick red  
hair. Her eyes were sea green, and her lashes were long and full. She wore a raggedy dress,  
filled with patches and holes. She had found it in the dumpster behind her house. With nothing  
else to wear, she wore the same dress everyday, washing it carefully in the muddy water that  
flowed through the tap.  
  
The child shuffled her feet, afraid of what she'd find at home. Usually her mother, Alicia, was  
out at a bar or pub, spending what few dollars they had by getting drunk. The few days she  
*was* home, however, were much worse. Alicia would beat Savana repeatedly, often  
breaking whatever bottle she would be carrying on the child's head. No amount of pleading or  
begging on Savana's part would stop the violence. After leaving the child for dead, Alicia would  
stagger away to rummage throughout the dumpster for the change found there, and then stumble  
to the liquor store down the block. In her absence, Savana would crawl out of the house and  
hide in dump until she was sure that Alicia was gone - at least for that night.  
  
Savana was now at her doorstep. The small, rundown trailer had certainly seen better days. The  
door was almost completely rotted away. All that remained were the hinges and a small piece of  
decayed wood. The doorknob was gone. Savana smile ruefully, remembering. Alicia had once  
gotten so desperate for money, she had stormed throughout the house, snatching anything she  
could pawn to buy more whiskey. Savana had only been about nine, and cried bitterly when  
Alicia had taken her old ratty teddy bear to sell.  
  
The girl slowly walked inside. She called out cautiously, "Mom?" Receiving no answer, she  
visibly relaxed. Savana slung her worn bookbag onto the only kitchen chair in the sparsely  
furnished trailer. She suddenly stiffened as she realized the contents of the patched pocket on  
her dirty dress. She slowly put a trembling hand inside and drew out the crumpled sheet of  
notebook paper that she had received that day. She reread the note, and then burst into tears.  
  
Monica, Tess, and Kathleen watched silently. "Tess!" Kathleen cried. "I want to go to her - to  
comfort her. Why won't you let me go?!" Behind the question was urgency.  
  
"Because, Baby," Tess answered gently, "The Father said No. And, when He says No, He says  
No!" Kathleen gave a puppy-dog face and moaned.  
  
"But - but - what could it hurt? What harm could it do to put my arms around her and tell her  
God loves her?"  
  
Tess smiled. "It could do a lot of harm. For one thing, she's not ready to hear that, yet. It would  
do more harm then good, I'm afraid. For another thing," she continued, "We get our orders  
from the Father, *not* from our motherly instincts!"  
  
Kathleen groaned again. "But, Tess, just *look* at her!"  
  
All angels turned back to the child. She had slumped to the filthy floor, and her large green eyes  
were once again filled with tears. Loud sobs vibrated through out the frail body. The  
heart-wrenching cry attracted the attention of another in the trailer - Alicia.  
  
Alicia stumbled into the kitchen. "Savage?" she asked, slurring the word. That child scrambled  
to her feet, a look of fear on her face. Alicia slammed a vodka bottle on the table and smiled  
mischievously. "Come here, Savage!" The use of the nickname made Savana cringe in terror.  
  
"Please, Mommy!" she cried. "Mommy - don't!" Paying no attention to her child's pleas, Alicia  
moved to the corner where a wooden baseball bat stood against the trailer walls. She picked it  
up and swung it once. The force of the swing almost knocked her over. Alicia regained her  
balance, and stumbled towards Savana. The child's face was contorted with fear. "Mommy!"  
  
Alicia lunged forward, swinging the bat wildly. It struck Savana in the face, causing her to reel.  
Her mother struck her again, giving her a black eye. Another blow broke her lip open, blood  
beginning to flow freely. Savana screamed many times in quick succession. Paying no attention,  
Alicia continued the beating.  
  
The original trio of angels had been joined by another - Andrew. He looked on in silence, the  
only sign of emotion was the small tick in his jaw, as he tensed his muscles in anger. "I can't  
understand why some one would do this to an innocent child!" he said angrily.  
  
Tess gave no answer, just continued watching sadly. Kathleen reached out to hug her, clinging  
to the elder for the strength to do as the Lord wanted. She ached inside; she wanted to reach  
out and save the little girl. Monica stood silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. She brought  
one hand up to her mouth, and nibbled on a pinky nail as she cried. Tess noticed and took  
Monica's raised hand and brought it down to her waist. Monica smiled ruefully.  
  
The foursome stood there, watching. After about 5 more minutes of the beating, Kathleen  
straightened, determined. "Tess," she said firmly. "I can't stand it. I'm going to go to her." Tess  
shook her head.  
  
"No," she said. "It's not the Plan." Kat looked desperate.  
  
"Can't the Plan change?"  
  
A sad smile. "Not unless the Father orders, and I ain't heard anything."  
  
Kathleen glanced around the room nervously. She took a tentative step forward. Monica  
reached a hand out to stop her, but Kat brushed it off casually. Careful not to meet Tess's eyes,  
she fairly ran to Savana. Dropping to her knees, she wrapped her arms around the child. She  
shuddered as the bat struck her again and again.  
  
Savana slowly uncurled from the small ball she had rolled into when the beating had begun. As  
the bat hadn't touched her for several moments, she wondered why she didn't feel the blows.  
She slowly opened one eye, then both shot opened as she realized that though Alicia continued  
to swing the bat in her direction, not one swing had touched her. Alicia apparently realized the  
same thing, as she grunted in disgust and wandered off in search of more liquor. The drunken  
mother slammed the bat down one more time to her daughter's head; the blow being blocked  
by Kathleen's bruised and battered body. Kat shuddered. Savana stood slowly, blinking several  
times in confusion. She couldn't understand why the blows hadn't touched her. Remembering  
her quick prayer earlier in the day, she smiled slightly.  
  
"Thank You, " she whispered quietly. She put one shaking hand up to her throbbing temple  
where the bat had missed Kathleen and landed true. Wobbling, she swayed to the trailer door,  
then disappeared. Monica immediately ran to her friend's side.  
  
"Kathleen?" she asked anxiously. "Are you okay?" Slowly raising her head, Kat nodded  
weakly. She tried to stand, but fell over on her side again. Slumping against the wall, she buried  
her head in her knees and refused to meet Tess's incriminating glare. Monica wrapped her arms  
around the angel. Andrew cast a faltering glance at Tess, then hesitantly walked to where  
Kathleen was slouched in suffering and shame.  
  
"Kathleen?" He bent down to her level, then gave her a gentle hug. "Now," he said kindly. " I  
know how much you love that little girl, but you can't do that!" he voice rose a notch beyond  
just compassion and kindness into exasperation. "She was supposed to die - it was her time!"  
Kathleen turned her pleading eyes up to the irate angel of death.  
  
"Andrew - " She paused, and gasped as one of the wounds in her side throbbed. She  
continued, "I knew that it was her time; I just couldn't let her die! She has such a great future - I  
know it." Tess turned her back on the hurting angel and began to walk away.  
  
"Come on, Angel Boy. Let's go, Miss Wings."  
  
Andrew hesitated, glancing down at Kathleen's curled form. He bit his lip nervously, then stood  
straight and followed Tess out of the trailer. Monica, however, pretended not to hear her  
supervisor's call and stayed, kneeling, by her friend. "Monica," called Andrew over his shoulder,  
unwilling to walk away from his two companions.  
  
"Hush, Angel Boy," Tess huffed. "It's their choice. It's their choice, but they're making the wrong  
one." Sadly looking behind him, Andrew followed Tess out of the trailer, leaving Monica alone  
to tend to Kathleen's wounds.  
  
-^v^-  
  
"Jonathan?"  
  
"Here."  
  
"Ashley?  
  
"Here."  
  
"Savana?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Savana?"  
  
Kathleen sighed. It was the next morning, and Kat had pretty much recovered from the ordeal  
last night. She smiled slightly. Monica was a great nurse - one could almost say her healing  
power was miraculous. Now Kat was standing in front of a slightly rambunctious class, calling  
roll and wondering where her assignment was. Trying one last time, she called out, "Savana? Is  
Savana here?"  
  
A blonde boy spoke up. "Naw, she's not here." A brunette girl and a blonde girl looked at each  
other and giggled.  
  
"Now, Abby, Charlotte, that's not nice," Kathleen said sternly. The giggles stopped  
immediately, and a few 'Sorry, Miss Kathleen' s were heard. "That's better."  
  
"Now, does anyone know where she is?" Suddenly, the door in the back of the classroom flew  
open, and the red headed girl in question shuffled her way painfully to her seat in the front of the  
class.  
  
"I'm sorry," Savana apologized. "I - I got into a fight on the way to school..." Kathleen  
immediately rushed over to the child and bent to her level. She anxiously examined the black  
eye and split lip. Clucking her tongue, the angel led Savana to the back of the class, grabbing an  
inadequate First Aid Kit from her desk.  
  
Taking one of only two dry wipes from the box, Kathleen tenderly wiped the dried blood from  
Savana's pale face. "Are you sure?" she asked. "A fight? With whom?"  
  
The child hesitated, obviously searching her brain frantically for some excuse. "Um - I didn't  
know them. They were some big kids - they tried to steal my pocket change, so I beat them  
up." This comment obtained a few snickers, first of all, it was well known that Savana was a  
child with no pocket change at all; when she said that she 'beat them up', it provoked many  
giggles, as the girl was very thin and physically weak.  
  
Kathleen smiled knowingly. "Are you sure?" she prodded gently. Her young charge nodded  
staunchly.  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
The angel sighed, and straightened, discouraged. It seemed like she might never reach Savana.  
Every time she thought she was getting somewhere, something would happen and Savana  
would shut herself off from the world more than ever. "Okay," she said tiredly. "It's time for gym  
- everybody line up." Kathleen watched, wearied, as her 21 students pushed and shoved their  
way into a line. Wait a second... She counted again. 21. There were supposed to be 22. She  
immediately looked to Savana's seat, a reprimand on her lips that died as soon as she saw her  
assignment slumped over on her desk.  
  
"Savana!"  
  
The angel ran to her side. She felt her pulse. "It's weak," she murmured to herself. Kathleen  
tilted Savana's head back. She was unconscious, and blood poured from her nose. Now totally  
oblivious to anyone or anything but Savana, Kathleen realized that Savana's breath was short,  
her pupils dilated, and her skin pale and clammy. "I think it's shock." She turned to one of her  
students; Charlotte. "Go!" she screamed. "Call 911! NOW!"  
  
Frightened, Charlotte turned to the door, and dashed through it as fast as she could. Panting,  
she slid to a stop in front of an old, beat up pay phone. Lifting the receiver, she dialed '911' with  
shaking fingers.  
  
"Hello, 911 emergency services; what is your emergency?"  
  
Charlotte swallowed hard. "Um - a girl at school - she collapsed."  
  
"Could you please tell me your name and location?"  
  
"Oh - I - I'm Charlotte, and I'm at Springwood Middle School."  
  
"That's good, thank you. Will you please stay on the phone until the ambulances get there?"  
  
"I - I can do that." Charlotte cast a worried look at the closed door. Beyond it a girl was  
unconscious. A girl - a girl that she knew. A girl that had once been her friend. Sighing,  
Charlotte shook off any regrets of their lost friendship.  
  
Inside the room, Kathleen checked Savana's vital signs for the umpteenth time. The worried  
look on her face twisted in pain as she understood that she might lose her young friend. She  
quickly tried to gather her composure as she realized that all of her students were watching her  
intently. "I - I think she'll be okay," she said with more conviction then she felt. Kathleen could  
feel her class unanimously let out a deep breath in relief. "I don't know for sure, though," she  
was quick to add. She would hate to give false hope to anyone, much less one of her young  
students. All of a sudden, Charlotte ran into the room.  
  
"They're here," she gasped out. "The - the ambulances. They're here."  
  
"Good." Kathleen sprinted to the door. Three medics raced into the room. Dropping to their  
knees, they called off foreign medical terms to each other. From the jargon, Kat managed to  
decipher that they thought Savana had 'severe internal bleeding'.  
  
She wanted to pitch a fit right then and there, scream and shout and kick her feet. It wasn't fair!  
Savana had done nothing wrong! How could God let this happen?! She thought that she had  
saved the child - she had used her own body to shield her - wasn't that enough? What else  
could she have done to stop it?! Kathleen tormented herself with these questions, but her  
outward appearance was calm and composed. She heard herself from a distance, telling the  
medics exactly what had happened. She found herself telling about Savana's beating the night  
before, too. Vaguely she wondered if she was supposed to tell this, but it was too late now.  
  
Then the doctors had loaded out the girl on a stretcher and were wheeling her out the door -  
away from her 'guardian angel'. Blindly, Kath stood to follow them, but one medic stopped her.  
She was to stay with the children, she was told, and they would call her with the results of the  
tests they would do. What was her number? She answered numbly. "I - I don't have a fixed  
residence. I'm staying with - with a friend." With that, she proceeded to give her questioner the  
number of a popular motel in town. "I'm in room 128," she said weakly.  
  
With a crisp nod, the medic acknowledged the statement. Just then, Monica rushed into the  
room. "I just heard," she exclaimed breathlessly. "I came as soon as I could." Taking another  
step forward to evaluate the situation, Monica suddenly knew what she had to do. "You go  
ahead with Savana, " she said softly. "I can manage here."  
  
Kathleen shot Monica a surprised look. "Thanks," she whispered. Monica nodded her  
acknowledgement. Kat sprinted to catch up with the paramedics. "I - I got a friend to stay with  
the kids." One woman gave her a thumbs up, but they was too busy with Savana to do much  
else.  
  
Once at the hospital, the assorted medics, doctors, and nurses rushed Savana through swinging  
double doors on a gurney, with Kathleen left waiting in a lavender and sea-green lobby/waiting  
room. She wandered aimlessly among ugly paintings and scattered magazines. One hour went  
by, then two. She bought a cup of coffee from the vending machine, then threw it out when it  
turned cold. Three hours. Four. She wondered if they had forgotten about her. It was lunchtime,  
but she wasn't hungry. She paced steadily, like a caged lion. Five hours. She began to feel sick  
to her stomach, a result of nervous apprehension. Finally, she asked at the desk about Savana.  
The receptionist politely but firmly told her that Savana was being 'looked at' and that she'd  
have to wait until the tests were completed. Kathleen sat in a hard, lavender chair and tried to  
read a teen magazine. Six hours. At a quarter 'till three, Monica rushed in. She saw Kat staring  
blankly at the publication, and smiled sorrowfully.  
  
Hesitating, she walked up behind Kat slowly. She didn't want to startle her, but she just looked  
so sad. Before having a chance to make up her mind on what to do, a frazzled nurse walked in.  
"Is there a " she glanced at her clipboard "a Miss Kathleen here?" Kat jumped up.  
  
"That's me," she said. "How's Savana doing?"  
  
The nurse's eyes darted nervously. "She - well, she's not well.  
  
Monica didn't know what the nurse was saying to her friend, but from the way Kat's face turned  
ashen, she guessed that it wasn't good. She could hear, however, Kathleen's urgent voice  
asking to see Savana. The medic hesitated, but finally nodded. She turned away, her heels  
clicking on the hard floor, with Kat close behind her.  
  
The doors to the elevator closed, leaving Monica alone - and bored. She paged through a  
couple magazines, bought and drank a cup of coffee, studied the pictures hanging on the walls,  
drank coffee, and wandered through the gift shop. After her third cup of coffee, she was feeling  
a little jumpy and apprehensive. She sank into one of the more plush chairs in the lobby. She  
wished someone - *anyone* - would show up to keep her company. She fiddled with the cross  
that hung around her neck, and smoothed her long skirt self-consciously. Most everyone else in  
the hospital wore either slacks or jeans. Her pale blue skirt and pastel top seemed out of place.   
Nervously, Monica stood and began to pace.  
  
She paced for over an hour. The caffeine was wearing off and suddenly she felt tired. She  
wished once again for a companion, and then let her eyes drop to the floor as she collapsed into  
an overstuffed chair. Abruptly she felt a presence - not human. She jumped up.  
  
Monica looked up and gasped. In front of her stood a short, blond, angel. She wore tight black  
Capris, and a white button-down shirt. On her head she had a brown and black beret tilted at  
an angle. A shower of freckles was scattered playfully across her nose. She looked right at  
home in the lobby. She snapped her gum, which caused Monica to jump. The newcomer  
grinned spiritedly, and extended a hand.  
  
"Hi. I'm Poland."  
  
The pleasant Southern drawl suddenly snapped Monica out of her reverie. "Oh," she said,  
flustered. She took the offered hand and shook it. "I - I'm Monica."  
  
"I know," Poland said matter-of-factly. "I was sent here to help you."  
  
Monica let her gaze sweep up and down the angel's teenage figure. Suddenly realizing that she  
was being rude, she spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry." She blushed. "I don't mean to stare. You - you just  
look so young!"  
  
Poland laughed. "I'm older than you think, Monica." She paused. "I'm not just an angel, you  
know. I'm an archangel." For the second time in five minutes, Monica's jaw dropped. She felt  
foolish. "I work with children, mostly," Poland was quick to explain. "It's my specialty, you  
could say."  
  
"You could say..." Monica echoed weakly. She suddenly wished for another cup of coffee,  
something to hold onto. Any flavor would do. As if reading her mind, a mug of the steaming  
liquid appeared in the archangel's hand. She cupped it gently for a moment, then reluctantly  
handed it over to her new friend.  
  
"I've heard you like mocha..." she said with a grin. Another cup appeared; this one she kept.  
"So do I." Poland took a long swig. Following her example, Monica did also.  
  
Most angels - or archangels - were comfortable, easy to be around. She had never before met  
an angel that made her feel so uneasy! She didn't know why. After all, Poland seemed nice  
enough. She took another sip, then relaxed as the warmth of the coffee - and caffeine - surged  
through her body. She must be crazy to be wary of the smiling, coffee-drinking angel standing  
right across from her, she decided. She just seemed so...Earthly. Monica sighed, and let her  
gaze drift to the Capris, snug around Poland's thin frame. She took an instant dislike to the short  
pants. They looked so uncomfortable!  
  
"Hey-hey, Baby!" At Andrew's voice, Monica whirled. Breaking into a grin she started towards  
him. Setting her cup down on a small table, she reached up to give him a hug. Returning the  
embrace, he planted a small kiss on the top of her head. "Who's she?" he whispered into her  
ear, gesturing to Poland who was watching their greeting with amusement.  
  
Monica sighed. "Her name is Poland." Andrew shot a worried look at his friend.  
  
"*Another* human? I don't know. This case is complicated enough as it is." Monica smiled  
ruefully.  
  
"She's an archangel."  
  
Andrew's jaw dropped. "She - she's - an - *archangel*?!" he stuttered. "But - but she looks so  
young!" Monica half-smiled at him.  
  
"She says her specialty is children."  
  
He nodded slowly. "I - I guess that that makes sense." He squinted, as if trying to remember  
some lost thought. "You know, I remember hearing something about an archangel being put on  
this case. Something about there being a danger of interference from the underside or  
something."  
  
Poland, hearing her cue, stepped forward, her pixie face the picture of seriousness. "Yes," she  
said soberly. "I'm afraid that it's true. With Savana in the hospital, in potential danger of death,  
Kathleen is in an exceptionally vulnerable position."  
  
"Position? Position for what?" Andrew inquired.  
  
Poland looked gravely at the two angels. For a moment, she looked not the part of the  
fun-loving teenager that she seemed to be, but of a stern archangel delivering grim news. "A  
position near Hell's Gates."  
  
Monica and Andrew froze.  
  
"You - you mean that Kathleen might leave us?" Andrew asked apprehensively.  
  
Poland looked sad. "Yeah...I mean, she won't do it on her own, or anything. Lucifer will  
probably sent a fallen angel to 'help' her. And we have to be there to make sure that Kat  
doesn't fall for it."  
  
Andrew tried to look more confident then he felt. "Ah - I'm sure that Kat won't be taken in be  
some fallen angel....will she?"  
  
"Be careful, Andrew. This isn't just some 'fallen angel'. She'll be a demon, wild and wicked. We  
need to be there for Kathleen so that she sees through whatever disguise she has on. She'd be  
very valuable to the underside..." There Poland let the comment hang. It hovered above their  
heads like thick smoke. To Monica and Andrew, the thought of Kathleen leaving seemed  
impossible, but to the experienced archangel, she knew that it was not only possible, but maybe  
even likely.  
  
"Well - what can we do?" Andrew asked. He ran a hand nervously through his honey-blond  
shoulder-length hair. "I - I mean, to help her - to keep her here -" He stopped, unsure of how to  
continue. To his relief, however, Poland seemed to understand exactly what he meant.  
  
"You mean, how should you act? How much should you push her to stay? How should you tell  
her what's true without hurting her feelings?" Poland asked. She offered a sad smile. "I can't tell  
you. I mean, there is no way that I can give you a set of 'to do's and 'do not's. You just have to  
wing it." She paused. "No pun intended, of course." That got a smile from the other angels. "No,  
seriously, there is no way you'll know exactly what to say ahead of time. The Lord will give you  
the words you'll need, at the right time. That's all the advice I can give you on that."  
  
She looked at Monica. "Aren't you usually the one full of questions?"  
  
Monica started. "Wha - where did you hear that?"  
  
Poland grinned. "Here's a hint." She swirled her fingers on the wall behind them. When she  
pulled her hand away, a mirage of Tess's face stared back for a second, then melted into  
nothingness. She cleared her throat. "Any questions?"  
  
Monica's mouth dropped open. "Ah - I - I -" She stopped, a puzzled look coming across her  
face. She wondered again what it was about this archangel that made her go tongue-tied. As a  
crimson flush spread across her face, she ducked her head in embarrassment. "I - I'm sorry,"  
she stuttered. "No - no questions."  
  
Poland raised an eyebrow. "Okay." She stood stock-still for a moment, seemingly oblivious to  
everything around her. A second later, she shook her head. "I gotta go, now. I'm being called."  
Without waiting for a reply, the archangel disappeared.  
  
Andrew exhaled deeply. "Whoa." He gave a slight laugh. "Talk about a 5 foot bundle of  
dynamite."  
  
"You've got that right," Monica said. She hesitated. "Andrew - does she bother you?"  
  
He shrugged. "No, not really. She's different, but that's normal." He leaned closer to her, as if to  
confess a great secret. His eyes twinkled mischievously. "I've heard that most archangels are a  
little peculiar. Most archangels," he whispered, "and supervisors." He straightened as Tess  
walked up behind him. Turning, his expression was one of complete innocence and purity of  
heart.  
  
Monica rolled her eyes.  
  
Tess shot both a strange look, but her expression quickly turned serious. "How's Savana?" she  
asked eagerly. Then she paused. "More importantly, how's Kathleen?"  
  
"Well, Kathleen's fine, maybe a little shook up, but fine. Savana....I don't know. Kat went to  
check on her just a moment ago, so I guess that we'll find out once she's back." Monica  
answered. Then she caught Tess's attention with a soft sigh.  
  
"What's wrong, Baby?"  
  
She paused. "Tess - have you ever met an archangel named Poland?"  
  
Tess chuckled. "Yeah. Is she the one on this case?" Monica and Andrew nodded silently. Tess  
laughed at their expressions. "A little overwhelming, huh." Monica and Andrew nodded again,  
wide-eyed.  
  
"You - you could say that," Andrew agreed.  
  
-^v^-  
  
Kathleen cautiously approached the hospital bed where Savana lay unconscious. Silent tears  
filled the angel's eyes as she surveyed the frail form. Her heart gave a jump as the child stirred.  
'Oh, Lord,' she prayed, 'Thank You so much for giving me another chance to reach her.'  
  
Slowly Savana's eyes opened. She gazed, confused, at her surroundings. "Where -" she  
started.  
  
"Shhhh." Kathleen smiled lovingly down at her assignment. "Just take it easy - and listen to what  
I have to say." Savana gave a weak smile to her teacher - obviously trusting 'Miss Kathleen'  
totally.  
  
A heavenly glow suddenly lit the dim hospital room. Savana shielded her eyes. It was so bright!  
So warm! She stared in wonder at the love that surrounded her teacher - who, at the moment,  
didn't look like your typical schoolteacher.  
  
Kathleen was clothed in a flowing white gown, made of no Earthly material. In her hair a single  
white flower was intertwined, its fragrance the most beautiful of all flowers found on this planet.  
Her face reflected all the Love of her Father. "Oh, Savana," she breathed. "It's time for you to  
know - I am an angel, sent to you from God to tell you that He loves you, so very much."  
  
Savana's awe turned quickly to anger, even in her weak state. "If He loves me," she said angrily,  
"Where was He when my mother beat me? Where was He when I was teased and taunted?  
Where *was* He??" Her accusations melted away into enraged tears. "Where was He?" she  
choked out again.  
  
Kathleen felt her heart almost break. "He was right with you, just as He is now!" she cried. "He  
loves you so much, Savana Ireland Rose, more than you could ever imagine."  
  
"I don't believe you," the child scoffed. "There is no God. If there *was* a God, He would of  
helped me long ago. Why do you choose NOW to show up? Why not just help my mother,  
years ago, and she in turn would've directly affected my life for the better?"  
  
Kathleen wasn't used to such total disbelief, especially from such a bright child. "Savana, I am  
not God. I don't know His plan, but whatever it is, it is the best thing for all of us."  
  
Savana met her loving gaze with a hateful one. "I don't believe it," she said simply. "I don't  
believe that you are an angel, I don't believe that God exists, and that He most certainly doesn't  
love me." She turned away from the angel, and buried under her covers. 'Did her breathing  
grew weaker?' Kathleen wondered with alarm. 'Or was it just my imagination?'  
  
She sighed in frustration. 'Maybe - maybe I'm not the right angel for this case.' she thought  
unhappily. 'Another angel - one with more experience, maybe - might get thru to her. *I'm*  
certainly not!' She vanished swiftly and silently, doubt pounding in her mind.  
  
-^v^-  
  
Kathleen was in a meadow, the grass heavy with dew. Paying no attention to the wetness,  
however, she was on her knees speaking to her Father.  
  
"Lord," she pleaded. "I'm not getting thru to her. Please, put another angel on this case. I'm not  
ready for this. I'm not," she stated again. Inside she felt a familiar tug telling her to return to her  
assignment's side, but she resisted. "Please," she begged. "Give her to someone with more  
experience than me. I can't do it!" she cried. Tears began to fall as she pleaded with God to put  
another angel on her case. She knew that He was telling her to return to her charge, but still she  
resisted. After an hour of prayer, with her Father's answer still not changing, she returned,  
defeated, to Savana's hospital room. She hesitated at the door. A cold feeling lingered in the  
room....the feeling of death.  
  
"No!" Kathleen cried. She rushed to Savana's bedside. The heart monitor's sound was steady -  
no heartbeat. The very pitch sent chills down her back. Dropping to her knees, she clasped her  
hands in desperation and shrieked, "Lord, no! How could you take her from me?! I need  
another chance - please, Father! Just give me one more chance - one more chance..." Her  
words dissolved into sobs. Her hair fell across Savana's still form.  
  
The girl's body was pale. Even her freckles seemed faded. Her eyes were closed, for which  
Kathleen was grateful. She didn't think that she could stand to see Savana's sea-green eyes  
staring at her. The girl, once full of life and energy, now seemed limp and frail. The hospital  
gown, much too big for the small body, had slidden down, exposing an ashen shoulder,  
tarnished by a large bruise.  
  
Savana herself was in no better shape. Andrew had waited to hear the word from the Father,  
but once he did, he wasn't happy. She had not accepted Him, he was told. She had died  
without loving Him. And there was only one thing that He could do. He does not break  
promises. The loss of her soul caused Him deep pain. Andrew thought these things, but they did  
not comfort him. Savana was in the hands of demons. Though she was young, she had  
understood God's love - and turned away from it.  
  
"No! NO!" Savana's soul shrieked. Her spirit was chained, shackled in heavy bonds and  
padlocks. Three demons danced in a Satanic dance around her, spitting fire into her face. The  
devils were revolting, the features that God had taken such care to perfect twisted into a  
mockery of His power. They swiped at her, scratching and burning her. Then they dragged her  
off to Hell, shrieking in evil glee all the while.  
  
Kathleen, vaguely aware that this was happening in a place not far from the hospital room, let  
out another shriek and continued sobbing. When Andrew came, and tried to put his arm around  
her, she shook him off. Lifting a tear-stained face, she spoke hoarsely to the angel of death.  
  
"She's not here. She's gone. I - I -"  
  
Andrew massaged her shoulders gently. "I know."  
  
"You *don't* know," she insisted. "This - this is my fault. I should have stayed with her. Oh,  
Andrew, why didn't I stay?" she sobbed.  
  
"You couldn't have known," he comforted her. He wrapped his arms around her in a motion of  
love and understanding. "The Father always has his reasons -"  
  
That just caused Kathleen to sob harder. "He didn't tell me to stay away. In fact, He told me to  
go to her! I disobeyed him, Andrew, and now Savana's dead....and her soul is lost."  
  
Andrew stiffened as he realized what she meant. "You - you mean -"  
  
Kathleen nodded silently. "She's really gone - and it's my fault."  
  
-^v^-  
  
Kathleen slumped dejectedly in the flat, hard, booth. She stared dispiritedly into her lukewarm  
coffee. Sighed, she shifted her legs. She wore a pair of worn blue jeans; of all her human  
clothing, she liked them the best. For a shirt, she donned a simple white tee, one with a small  
breast pocket. Inside the pocket was a small color photo of a petite red-headed girl - Savana.  
Taking it out to stare at it, Kathleen sighed again. The angel found herself filling with pain over  
the loss of the girl, so she hastily put the picture back. Turning her head to take in the shabby  
coffee shop, she raised her hand to motion the waiter over. The server's nametag read 'Tobie'.  
After pouring her another cup, of which she took black, Tobie disappeared behind a set of  
swinging swivel doors.  
  
"Hello. May I join you?" A new voice, sugary and sweet, broke the silence. Barely raising her  
eyes from where they stared into her coffee mug, Kathleen nodded her consent. A pretty  
red-head dropped her overflowing bag beside the booth. A few papers spilled out over the top,  
and the newcomer's eyes flared angrily. She hastily stuffed them back into the stuffed bag. Her  
steely gaze softened as she was Kathleen's figure slouched in the bench. Raising her eyebrows  
mischievously, she sat delicately in the seat across from the angel. She put her hands, folded,  
under her chin. "My name is Thorn," she said brightly. No response. "You know, I used to be  
an angel, too." Careful not to mention her current occupation, Thorn continued. "Being an angel  
is a wonderful thing." Inside her heart confused with evil and hate, she wished that she could  
remember.  
  
Kathleen finally raised her eyes. Slight shock fluttered over the mournful expression painted on  
her dark features. "You - you know that I'm an angel? How?"  
  
Smiling pleasantly, Thorn spoke easily. "Because I used to be one, too. I can still tell other  
angels - and devils - from humans anyday." She saw that she was confusing Kathleen, so she  
grinned as nicely as she could and waited for the expected question. Then it came.  
  
"So - you're not an angel anymore?  
  
"That's right, Sweetheart," Thorn cooed. "I'm a demon. Straight from Hell. And I've been sent  
here to be your friend during this difficult time."  
  
Kathleen sat up straighter, a puzzled look wiping all signs of sorrow from her face. "You don't  
seem like the type to be a fallen angel. I mean," she groped for the right words. "I thought that  
fallen angels were wicked, and evil. You're not like that." She paused. "Are you?"  
  
"Oh, of course not," Thorn lied. "See? We're not as bad as you were taught. We're just like you  
- the only difference is that we serve different masters." Her eyes narrowed as she saw the small  
frown settle in on Kathleen's features.  
  
The angel thought about that. "So, what you're saying, is that we're not that dissimilar. That you  
are really just like me... and all of the other angels."  
  
"Exactly!" Thorn slipped out of her side of the booth and scooted in beside the angel. She  
wrapped her arms around Kathleen. "Now, something's wrong. I can feel it. Tell me what the  
matter is." Kat hesitated for a moment, not answering, but then tentatively embraced Thorn  
back. "Tell me," the dark angel cooed. "You can trust me...I promise."  
  
As Thorn placed the first few cornerstones of a false friendship, Monica and Andrew watched  
silently. The angel of death, wearing faded jeans and a white tee-shirt, held Monica close, as  
she clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.  
  
"Andrew!" she cried desperately. The unusual grief in her voice caused him to look at her  
closely. "You must let me go to her! I need to reach her before Rose gets her claws into her!"  
  
Andrew gave an ironic smile. "Hate to tell you this, Babe, but it's Thorn now. She changed it  
after - after she left." He prevented Monica from leaving his side by physically holding her  
back. She struggled slightly, but once she realized that he *wasn't* going to let her go, she fell,  
limp, in his arms.  
  
"Thorn?" Her eyebrows rose. "That's ridiculous! I don't think anyone *ever* changed their  
name after the Great War of Separation."  
  
Andrew chuckled softly. "She thought that 'Rose' was too soft. It was fine while she was in the  
Truth, but once she crossed the line into the Darkness, it wasn't *good enough* for her. She  
had to have something with fire, and something that echoed all the evil, wickedness, and hate  
she now had in her life. Plus," he continued, "She doesn't want anything that would remind her  
of her former life. It just hurts too much." He whistled. "Boy, she has *some* story. I'll have to  
tell it to you sometime, Monica."  
  
Ignoring his last comment, Monica kept on, speaking with a frenzied look in her mocha-brown  
eyes. "And now she's hurting Kathleen!" She hesitated for a moment, as if unsure about whether  
to continue. Deciding it was safe, she went on. "I - I've lost good friends who were tempted and  
fell...I don't want Kathleen to be one of them."  
  
Andrew's eyebrows rose. "Oh, I'm sure it won't come to that!" he said quickly. "She - she just  
might fall a *little*."  
  
"Andrew," Monica said angrily, "You know as well as I do that no human - or angel - can  
serve two masters. Kathleen must choose. And Andrew, I'm afraid - I'm so afraid of her  
decision." With that, the angel broke into quiet sobs. Andrew filled with sadness as well, for he  
too was afraid of what Kathleen - his friend - might choose. Tears running down his cheeks as  
well, Monica and Andrew held onto each other, wrapped in an embrace of fear and  
heart-breaking love for a friend.  
  
And so it was, two angels of the Light holding on to each other on one side of a dingy little  
coffee shop, and one angel of Light and one of Dark embracing on the other. The cafe was  
small, its capacity only about 50 people. It was animated, with bold blues and striking yellows,  
courageous greens, and bright reds. Every booth had a table that didn't quite match, and a mate  
that clashed only the slightest bit. The floors were orange, but clean. The smell of freshly  
brewed coffee drifted through the air, and the steady gurgle of coffee pots kept a unwavering  
rhythm.  
  
Steam curled up from Kathleen's rapidly cooling coffee mug, creating a halo-shaped ring around  
her head, which, when given a sharp look from Thorn, broke in half and melted away,  
unnoticed by the other angels.  
  
They stood like that for what seemed like hours, until the owner of the shop, Tobie, decided  
that enough was enough. Wiping his hands on the off-white apron that covered his strong build,  
he walked over to Thorn. Tapping her on the shoulder, he said "Ma'am?" Thorn turned around  
quickly, and the human's eyes widened as he took in her pretty features, tight miniskirt, and  
spaghetti-strap tank. The fallen angel thought that, even though he wasn't her assignment, she  
could afford to spend a little time on him. Maybe even get a loyal follower for her father.  
  
"Um - could you please move the cry-fest outside? You're scaring away the customers." The  
husky voice of Tobie broke her thoughts. "You, on the other hand," he said, "You can stay."  
Releasing Kathleen, Thorn smiled and winked suggestively.  
  
"Just let me escort my - *friends* to the door." Putting her hands on Kathleen's shoulders, the  
fallen angel steered her towards the door. Monica and Andrew joined hands, and walked with  
as much dignity as they could muster out the door. Monica caught Kathleen's hand as she  
passed, and as one tear-streaked face looked into another, Monica felt sure that she would not  
lose a friend. Kathleen, on the other hand, was just as certain that she had made a new one.  
  
"Thanks, Monica," Kathleen whispered softly. Monica smiled encouragingly.  
  
"You are *so* welcome."  
  
Inside, as Thorn continued to flirt with Tobie, a dark cloud settled over her, causing her green  
eyes to glow like a cat's. The human seemed not to notice the haze, falling prisoner to the fallen  
angel's lustful spell. Eyebrows raised suggestively, Thorn beckoned to him to follow her into a  
dark, secluded storage room. The area was 'coincidentally' equipped with a brand-new  
mattress and two plump pillows...  
  
-^v^-  
  
Thorn sighed in contentment. She had done a good day's work. Or bad, rather...She laughed to  
herself at the joke. Smiling, she ticked off her evil deeds on her fingertips. "Number one," she  
counted. "Kathleen. Number two," she continued," Tobie. Number three, those three boys."  
She smiled evilly to herself as she remembered temping them to rape and kill the girl - and  
watching with pleasure when they did so.  
  
"What are you doing *here*, my little angel?" A tall, blond, man with steely blue eyes  
materialized in front of her. Speaking in cold tones, he paced quickly about the small room, his  
gray overcoat flapping. "I thought I told you to stay with Kathleen." He stopped abruptly in  
front of Thorn. Bringing his hand back, he slapped her. The sting brought tears to her eyes, but  
they didn't fall.  
  
"I - I" she stuttered. She wished suddenly that she had done exactly what she had been told. "I  
just thought - just thought that I'd have a little bit of fun with the other human. Tobie, his name  
was. The temptation to help him along our road - *your* road, Daddy - it was too great."  
  
"Damn you!" the 'man' screamed. "*You're* supposed to be the tempter!" His hair fell into his  
eyes, which gleamed with evil, anger, and hate.  
  
"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I'm sorry!" The tears she had been holding back fell. The man -  
obviously not human - shoved Thorn to the floor. She knew from experience that it was not  
wise to struggle. She tensed for the inevitable beating. "Daddy," she begged. "Let me go.  
Please, let me go."  
  
This infuriated Lucifer even more. "Tell me what to do, demon?" He slapped her again, and  
again. Blood - human blood - flowed freely from Thorn's nose and split lip. All of a sudden he  
cursed, arose, and backed away. Slowly opening her eyes, Thorn saw Monica standing in the  
midst of all the evil, the golden light of God surrounding her as an aura. Both Lucifer and Thorn  
flinched away from its purity. Slowly advancing, Monica fought to keep a loving expression on  
her face.  
  
"Rose," she began gently. "You know, you don't have to take this."  
  
"Shut up, you damn angel." Lucifer stepped forward. Monica backed away, fear in her eyes.  
"What an almighty God," he sneered. "Sending me one measly angel. What do *you* know? I  
can treat my pets anyway I choose - isn't that right, my little angel?" His voice dripped with  
sarcasm as he addressed Thorn.  
  
Thorn looked fearfully at Monica. "He's right," she whispered. "He owns me now. He can do  
anything he wants to do to me."  
  
Monica's eyes filled with pain. Shaking her head, she whispered back, "No, Rose, no. *God*  
owns you. He *made* you. You are His. And you can come back to Him if you want. He can  
for -"  
  
Shrieking with anger, Lucifer advanced. His human face twisted into a demonic sneer. "Don't  
*ever* mention *that* name again," he threatened. His expression was so ugly that Monica  
had to force herself to look at him. A deep growl sounded, deep in his throat. "Leave her  
alone," the monster hissed. "She is mine - no *angel* can take her away from me."  
  
His hands turned black and scaly. They curled into claw-like position. Grinning evilly, Lucifer  
swiped at Monica. Her light disappeared. Crying out, she quickly brought a hand up to the long  
burn-scratch that ran the length of her face. Wincing, the angel felt the blood run down her  
cheek. She could taste the sickening liquid every time her lips parted. Laughing, Lucifer clawed  
again at Monica, this time at the neck. Groaning, Monica sank to her knees. It hurt so much.  
Her thoughts were scattered every which way, and her eyes darted fearfully around the small  
room.  
  
"Lord," she prayed. "Father - help me, please!" But it was not His time. Tears ran down His  
angel's face, and the Lord saw, and wept as well. Monica's beating continued. Moaning, she  
tensed as the talons swept over her, again and again.  
  
Many minutes later, Thorn slowly rose from where she had been huddled on the floor. Evil glee  
flashed in her eye. She reached out into the air, and didn't seem a bit surprised when a heavy  
stick materialized in her hand.  
  
"Since I don't have your claws, Daddy," she purred. "Maybe I can help in *this* way." She  
paused for a second, then swung the club directly at Monica's head. The angel froze. She held  
her breath as she waited for the heavy weapon to strike. Grinning widely, Thorn shut her eyes  
for one moment in victory. Her smile quickly turned to a frown as she heard the 'whoosh' of  
wood against air. Opening her eyes, she shrieked in anger as she realized that her intended  
target was gone. She froze in terror as she understood that she had let Monica get away - a  
surely punishable act. Trembling in fear, Thorn backed away from her 'Daddy'.  
  
Lucifer advanced in the dark room. With the angel gone, evil and hate seemed to choke the  
small storage room. Still retreating, the fallen angel dropped her weapon. He picked it up. He  
began to swing it, first onto his palm, then towards Thorn...  
  
-^v^-  
  
Monica awoke in a secluded forest clearing. She had never been there before, she was sure of  
it. She tried to sit up, but, moaning, had to lie back down flat again. Tess leaned over her,  
concern written all across her face. "Are you alright?" Her voice was deep and rich.  
  
Monica put a shaking hand up to her temple. She tried again to sit up, and this time succeeded.  
She leaned against a tree. "I -I think so," she said. Puzzled, she voiced her confusion. "What  
happened there, Tess? Lucifer was there...he was hurting me...I had interrupted him beating up  
on Rose. No, Thorn," she corrected herself. Tess smiled to herself, and let her angelic friend  
ramble on. "I wanted to stop it - the beating, I mean. But when I tried to talk to her, Rose, I  
mean, Lucifer got angry at me. I guess I shouldn't've pushed it, but it just felt 'right'; I wanted so  
badly to reach Thorn. She needs God *so* much..."  
  
Tess reached over and gave her protege a hug. "I know, Baby, I know. Now," she said,  
changing the subject, "Let's see what we can do with those nasty little souvenirs Lucifer gave  
you to remind you of your meeting."  
  
Extending her arm, she gently touched the black eye that was swelling in Monica's Celtic face.  
A slight shock stunned the younger angel slightly. But when she put a hand to her face, she was  
happily surprised to find the black eye healed completely, with nothing but a very slight bruise,  
hardly noticeable. One by one, Tess healed Monica's wounds, until she was completely cured,  
and asking for coffee.  
  
Laughing, the elder angel gently reminded her of her promise to cut back. Monica's large  
pleading eyes finally won her supervisor over, nevertheless, and soon Monica was happily  
sipping her favorite beverage. "Thank y', Tess," she sighed blissfully. "It's heaven."  
  
Tess chuckled. "Baby, it ain't paradise, but to you, I guess, it can be awfully close." Monica  
smiled mischievously, her eyes rolling.  
  
"Maybe," she said. "So, Tess." She changed subjects abruptly. "What's next?"  
  
Tess raised an eyebrow. "'Next'? What do you mean, 'next'? We gotta keep Kat here...surely  
you realized *that*." Monica nodded seriously, and took a sip of her coffee.  
  
"I know that...but how?"  
  
"Well, now, why don't you ask your Father?" Tess told her. "He knows the Plan...he's got the  
answers to ALL your questions...many as they may be." Her lips broadened in a grin.  
  
Monica smiled in acknowledgement. Shutting her eyes tightly, she clasped her hands together,  
the cup the she was formerly holding vanishing into thin air. "Dear God," she prayed. "Please  
help me to know what to do in regarding my friend Kathleen..." As her prayer continue, Tess  
stepped from the small meadow and disappeared, leaving Monica to talk to the Lord alone.  
  
-^v^-  
  
Kathleen walked aimlessly through a brightly colored garden. Red roses, blue irises, and yellow  
daffodils glimmered around her, but she didn't notice their beauty. "I feel like that," thought Kat  
numbly, as she studied ruby-colored bleeding heart plants. The cobblestone path she treaded  
on was warm from the sun. The angel wished for some one to come and help her to sort out her  
thoughts. She wanted to do what was right, but she didn't know how to do that...after all, she  
had disobeyed her Father, and a little child had suffered because of it. Though her eyes were  
cast down, they jumped up when she felt a presence in front of her, blocking her path. She  
smiled when she saw that it was her 'friend' from the cafe - Thorn.  
  
"Aw, Baby..." The fallen angel tossed a sympathetic glance at Kat, who, again, seemed ready to  
burst into tears. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me the whole story." She spoke the words, even  
though she knew perfectly well what the 'whole story' was.  
  
"Well," Kat started hesitantly. "It - it started when I got my new assignment. It was a little girl -  
Savana..." Though it took a fair amount of time, Thorn didn't say one word until Kathleen was  
finished.  
  
"You must feel so, so bad," Thorn said innocently in response. She smiled, then winced as her  
black eye began to throb. Kathleen bit her lip, then glanced down at her feet. "I mean," he dark  
angel continued, "Having a child lose her soul - because you didn't listen - you must feel  
horrible." Kathleen nodded slowly, tears threatening to fall.  
  
"I should have done as I was told. I could have changed her mind - her soul! She would be in  
heaven right now, but - but - " Sobbing, the angel of Light leaned into Thorn's open arms. The  
fallen angel tenderly held Kathleen close, but her eyes narrowed in evil glee.  
  
"It's okay," she soothed. She ran her fingers through Kathleen's dark, flowing hair. Her human  
hands curved in claw-like position, and as she combed them through the angel's hair, they  
leaked evil and hate. Still murmuring in low tones, the digits continued their mission; rancor and  
anger seeping from her fingertips into Kathleen's very being. Her tears slowly drying, Kat  
straightened, a new look coming into her eyes.  
  
"It wasn't just *my* fault..." she said. Her voice had a touch of unfamiliar hardness. "It - it was  
God's fault, too. He didn't let me help her. He could have sent another angel. He could have  
prolonged her death long enough for me to get through to her." A crisp, biting tone was in her  
voice. Thorn smiled happily, glad that she had finally been able to help push Kathleen in a  
direction -- down.  
  
"Rose?!" A new voice, startlingly foreign with an Irish brogue interrupted the talk. "Rose - what  
are you doing here?!" Monica's face reflected her horror.  
  
With a smug look, Thorn replied. "It's not Rose anymore, Sweetheart. Try 'Thorn'.  
  
Ignoring the fallen angel, Monica continued. "Kathleen, stay away from her! Don't you know  
who she is?!" Kathleen turned slowly to her friend. Monica saw the new look in her eyes, and  
heard the new tone in her voice, and swallowed hard as Savana's former angel spoke.  
  
"Yes, Monica, I know who she is. She's not as bad as you think, you know. Thorn has shown  
me the truth - something not Tess, nor Andrew, nor Poland, nor you, nor God Himself -" Here  
Monica detected something of a sneer. "Could."  
  
Bringing her hands together, Monica spoke with a note of anxiety. "'She's not so bad', you say.  
That's what she *wants* you to think! Anything not of God *is* bad, Kathleen - evil, and  
wicked. And trust me, my friend, 'Thorn' is definitely *not* from God."  
  
"Oh, shut up, angel," Thorn spat angrily. "What do YOU know, anyway. Kathleen and I were  
doing just fine without your help."  
  
"That's what you *want* her to think!" cried Monica. "Kathleen - y'must come with me - and  
come quickly. Thorn will play with your mind, twist up your thinking. She will cause you to see  
the Light in a different manner - so much so that you may even leave it." Speaking softly,  
Monica voiced what all the other angels had been thinking.  
  
Kathleen's eyes flashed. She raised herself to her full height and spoke angrily. "Monica, why  
don't you just butt out. She's not doing anything wrong. I am in no danger of leaving you or your  
God."  
  
Monica felt her heart almost break. "See?" she cried. "She already has her talons in you -  
*your* God?! He's not just *mine*, He's yours, too! Mine, and yours, and Tess's, and  
Andrew's, and Poland's - and Savana's."  
  
The mention stopped Kathleen cold. "How - how *dare* you mention that name to me! She's  
dead - her soul, lost. It's my fault. You needn't rub salt in the wound!" Monica bit her lip, crying.  
  
"Kathleen," she pleaded hoarsely. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to tell you the Truth!"  
  
"And the Truth shall set me free..." Kathleen sneered sarcastically. She turned to Thorn, who  
gave her a smile that said, 'Keep going, Girl.' She turned back to Monica. "But this time it  
didn't," she said. "*This* time the Truth bound me; chained me. It was supposed to 'set me  
free', Monica, but it didn't."  
  
"That's it exactly!" cried Monica triumphantly. "It's not the Truth!"  
  
"Yeah right," scoffed Kathleen. "I know what the Truth is - Thorn just helped me to find it.  
Monica, you're okay and all, but I think that maybe you're just the *slightest* bit old-fashioned.  
Maybe YOU'RE the one who is forgetting what it is to be an angel. We're not magical fairies  
with feathery wings that come down from heaven, waving a magic wand, and making everything  
all better again. We're like humans in some respect - we hurt, we make mistakes, we fail. And I  
failed." Her eyebrows rose. "Accept it, Monica. *I* did."  
  
Monica sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt a headache start to form, and she  
wished that Kathleen would just realize that she was right and Thorn was wrong and get back  
to the way things were before - with Kat and her as friends, and Kat with her head out of the  
clouds - or flames, Monica noted ironically. "Kathleen," she began, her voice exposing her  
obvious frustration. "You need to realize that -"  
  
"Oh, please," Thorn groaned. "Don't spout some goody-goody  
God-loves-you-and-will-forgive-you junk. Kat and I already know the truth. Why don't you  
just leave."  
  
"You know I can't do that," Monica spoke slowly. She was fighting to keep her temper. She  
was ferociously glaring at the fallen angel who was so smug in her win for Kathleen's soul. She  
grit her teeth. It would be nice for some backup, she thought, but I can handle this. I'm an angel.  
And she's a fallen angel, she realized unhappily. Monica spoke, but her voice faltered. "Thorn,  
leave her alone."  
  
Thorn snorted a laugh. "Right," she said. "Like you can make me leave." Her voice rose in an  
unpleasant sneer.  
  
Monica stepped forward. "I *can* make you," she said. Suddenly her voice was filled with  
strength and courage. "In the name of the Father, and in the Son Jesus Christ, leave us."  
  
Thorn drew back in mock fear. "Oh, no, the angel rebukes me," she said sarcastically. But  
inside the bravo, the angel of light could sense slight alarm.  
  
Monica continued. "I say, in the name of the Lord, leave us!"  
  
Thorn backed up even further. Her lips curled into an evil sneer. "This isn't the end," she  
snarled. "I *will* be back." She leaned forward to whisper into Monica's ear. "To claim her  
soul," she hissed.  
  
Monica's eyes filled with shock. "You won't," she stuttered.  
  
Thorn laughed. "Oh, my Darling, but I will." With that, her eyes glowed red, and her body was  
engulfed with flames. When the smoke cleared, the fire had gone, along with the fallen angel.  
  
-^v^-  
  
Kathleen stood in the center of a large field. Lightning flashed and thunder roared, and the  
strong wind whipped her long skirt around her body. It was not raining yet, but it would soon.  
Silent tears ran down Kat's cheeks; she tasted the salt on her lips. Her hair was down, flowing  
freely in the wind. Her eyes were shut, squinted tightly, as if to block something out . In truth,  
she was trying to escape her feelings. She didn't want to understand her emotions - they  
confused her, angered her to the point of doubting her Father. She knew that her doubt was  
wrong, but she didn't think that she could bear to go on blindly following this Master, this  
Creator, without knowing the answers to her questions. Every time she asked, God would  
ignore her, she thought bitterly. Every time she cried, He would turn His back. She bit her lip,  
the expression on her face half-sorrow, half-anger.  
  
"Kathleen?" At the sound of a familiar voice, pleasant with a Southern drawl, Kathleen sighed  
and turned.  
  
"Poland."  
  
Smiling compassionately, the archangel started tromping across the field towards Kat. She  
hiked up her baggy jeans, and straightened her butterfly clips resting on her silvery-blonde hair  
that was pulled back into a tight bun. Her black, stylish, chunky heels morphed into Adidas  
sneakers as she realized that the footwear wasn't exactly appropriate to be hiking across a field  
in.  
  
Kathleen sighed again, and turned from her friend. "I don't want you here," she said in a low  
tone. Giving up the walk, Poland materialized directly in front of the angel. Slumping her  
shoulders in mock hurt, she frowned in an exaggerated sulk.  
  
"Why not? Don't you like me anymore? Aren't you my friend?" With all the words of a typical  
teenager, the archangel managed to force a small smile to Kathleen's lips.  
  
"No, it's not that," she protested quietly. "I just wanted to be alone."  
  
A small frowned creased the pretty archangel's face. "You're never alone - you know that."  
  
"That's the problem!" Kathleen cried. "He never leaves me alone! I just need some time by  
myself. That's all - can't He just give me that?"  
  
Poland sighed. She opened her lips to speak, but before she could get a word out, a new voice  
broke in. A voice cold and calculating. A voice she knew all too well - one that she hoped that  
she'd never hear again.  
  
"Kathleen...we meet again. Nice to see you." Thorn stepped up to Kat, dressed in one of a  
seemingly endless supply of black miniskirts and tanks. Pointedly ignoring the archangel who  
was giving her a Look that said 'Leave', she began to massage Kathleen's shoulders. "Having a  
bad day, Dear? I thought that we had made some progress last time we met..."  
  
Kat shrugged. "I guess. Well, yeah, you did. I mean - you showed me the truth..."  
  
Poland stepped forward, her voice sounding like the archangel she was, stern, loving, and  
knowing, all at the same time. "Kathleen. It was not the Truth that she gave you. What she told  
you was a cheap imitation of the Truth...a mockery of what really is." Her voice turning soft;  
loving, and caring. "Kathleen," she repeated. "Savana's failure of soul was not your fault. You  
need to believe that."  
  
"That's not true," Thorn hissed. She hugged Kat protectively. "It *was* her fault. She disobeyed  
her Father. Tell me, Poland, if she had let the last beating continue, would Savana had gone to  
heaven?" Kathleen turned to face the archangel, a worried expression on her face. It was  
obvious that she wanted to hear the answer.  
  
Poland bit her lip. "Well," she answered hesitantly, "Yes...but - "  
  
Kathleen whirled around to look at Thorn squarely in the eye. "You were right!" she cried,  
cutting the other angel off. "I should have never listened to Monica! You were right..." Her  
shoulders slumped. "You were right about that...maybe you're right about everything."  
  
Thorn grinned evilly. "I am, Kathleen. That's what I've been trying to tell you all along."  
  
"Kathleen," Poland protested. "It's NOT true; you can ask your Father if it is. He'll tell you it's  
not. Trust Him, Girlfriend. He can do so much for you."  
  
Kat raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really," she said. "Where was He when Savana suffered? Where  
was this Almighty God when *I* suffered? He didn't do anything for me; send anyone to help  
me, but -" she paused, unsure of whether to continue. Finally deciding to get her feelings out in  
the open, she proceeded. "But Lucifer did."  
  
Poland gasped. "You - you can't mean it."  
  
Kathleen smiled. "I do."  
  
Thorn grinned evilly to herself. "It's working, Daddy," she whispered to herself. "We're gonna  
have a new addition to the family." She beamed again. Turning serious, she spoke to her new  
catch. "Kathleen, if you want to join our side - the WINNING side - just say the word."  
  
That caused Kat to look unsure. "Well - " she stuttered. "I don't know. I don't want to stay  
here, that's for sure, but I don't know if I want to join you."  
  
Thorn opened her mouth in mock astonishment. "I don't see how you can stand here in front of  
an archangel, doubt your Lord, praise the underside, and then say you don't want to join us!"  
  
"But- but - " Poland sputtered. "She didn't mean it!"  
  
That caused Kathleen to rage. "How can you say what I mean or don't mean?! You're not my  
Master. *I* am my master." She paused. "It's my choice. I can choose whether I want to go or  
not." She raised an eyebrow. "No one can decide for me."  
  
Thorn knew that this was the time to pounce. She'd ask now, before Kat had time to change  
her mind. She knew that Kat was angry now, and that she'd be more likely to join them now  
then once her anger cooled. "So?" she asked. "Who'll it be? Me, or her? God, or Lucifer? I'm  
not trying to influence you in any way. Just make your decision, and then let's get outta here."  
  
Kat gulped. "Uh -"  
  
"Kathleen," Poland pleaded hoarsely. "You know what is true, and right. Please, don't leave  
us." As Kathleen's face hardened, the archangel knew that she had only one chance left. She  
began to pray aloud. "Heavenly Father," she began. "Please show Kathleen - Your child - the  
Truth. Help her to understand the depth of your love, and to understand that you have a great  
Plan that not a one of us could understand. If you let Savana die; there was a reason for it.  
Though Kat may not be able to comprehend it now, help her to see that there *was* a purpose  
for her death and failure of soul." Seeing that Kat was listening intently, she continued to ask the  
Lord to help Kathleen; to show her that there *was* an intent; and, in truth, to keep her in the  
Light. She spoke the traditional 'Amen'.  
  
Suddenly the stylish baggy jeans, white button-up, butterfly clips, and all were blocked by a  
mighty flash of light. It was so blinding that Kat had to look away, while Thorn dropped to her  
knees in pain from its purity. When it subsided, a blazing white gown, with many folds of pure  
cloth had replaced Poland's chic clothing. Her face beamed radiantly, Truth and Love shining  
from her smile. From her shoulders two large wings protruded. They shimmered with pale blue,  
green, pink, purple, yellow feathers, so much more beautiful then the plumage of even the most  
dazzling bird on Earth. Their total wingspan was over 10 feet. Fluttering ever-so-gently, they  
levitated the archangel until her bare feet were dangling just at Kathleen's eye-level. She  
hovered there for a moment, a beautiful vision of peace, love, and happiness.  
  
Kathleen backed away, fear in her eyes. "No - no - " she whispered hoarsely. "Get - get away  
from me." She stood beside Thorn and gripped the fallen angel's hand tightly, for strength. "I  
don't want you here. I have chosen. Leave!"  
  
Poland hurriedly brought down her glow, lighting softly on the ground. "Kathleen - think about  
what you're doing here. You're turning your back on your Father - The Lord your God!"  
  
"I know what I'm doing, dammit!" Kat spit out viciously. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw  
Thorn smile. It gave her the strength to keep going. "You've lost this time, Poland," she said  
calmly. "Now, let me tell you what you're going to do. First, you're going to leave. Then, go  
back to Tess, Andrew, Monica - the whole bunch - and tell them the bad news that I'm gone.  
Go and cry for a while - but stay on Earth for me, okay? I want to see that bitch, Monica,  
suffer. All that crap she's been feeding me...'God loves you. Stay with us - WE love you.'" She  
snorted in disgust. "Gimme a break."  
  
Thorn said calmly, "Ready to go?" Kathleen nodded.  
  
She disappeared into a cloud of dark smoke with the dark angel.  
  
Poland stared in disbelief to where the smoke-stuff was beginning to disappear as well. "Oh,  
Kathleen," she whispered softly. "If only you knew..." She smoothed down her long, flowing  
gown and went to find Monica, Tess, and Andrew to tell them the bad news.  
  
-^v^-  
  
Monica, Tess, Andrew, and Poland walked slowly down a rural dirt road. Shoulders slumped,  
and feeling like they had failed, not one of them was dry-eyed. All were clothed in white;  
Monica, Tess, and Poland in flowing dresses. Poland had her arm linked thru Andrew's, who  
had Monica at his other shoulder. He had his arm around the Irish angel. Monica was holding  
Tess' hand, and leaning on the angel of death. The Light was ahead of them, and slowly then  
disappeared, leaving only a sense of sadness behind them.  
  
But further back on the road, a dark angel newly clad in a black miniskirt and tank, was  
listening closely to her red-haired supervisor tell her about her first assignment for the dark side.  
The newest demon had her dark hair cut shorter, and an evil look shone in her eyes. A silver  
ring in the shape of a serpent glistened on her finger. "I'm ready," she declared. And she was on  
her way for her first evil task...one of hundreds that would ruin lives...destroy families...and  
claim souls. 


End file.
